


if you're loved by someone, you're never rejected (decide what to be and go be it)

by theragingstorm



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Love, Multi, Romance, Sister-Sister Relationship, temporary Anna/Hans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theragingstorm/pseuds/theragingstorm
Summary: In a world where Anna was born first, instead of Elsa, their story plays out quite differently.
Relationships: Agnarr & Elsa (Disney), Anna & Elsa (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa & Iduna (Disney), Elsa & Kristoff (Disney), Elsa & Olaf (Disney)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 96





	if you're loved by someone, you're never rejected (decide what to be and go be it)

**Author's Note:**

> I got a request for an AU in which Anna and Elsa were born in the opposite order, and, as you can see, it completely ran away with me. Oh well.
> 
> Also inspired by this artwork: https://ks315f.tumblr.com/post/190829968201/big-sis-anna-and-little-elsa-request-by
> 
> Title from "Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full Of Promise" by The Avett Brothers.

Elsa supposed the main difference between them was thus: she did not know what life would be like without her sister, whereas Anna knew, had experienced life without hers, and had scoffed and said “fuck that.”

She’d been five when Elsa was born, just old enough to form lasting memories. Their mother had held the quiet, pale baby out to her little daughter, the two of them reaching for each other, and when they did, before her eyes, the tiny pudgy hands waving in the air had had snowflakes forming around them. Then, as Iduna had always told the story, before she could say or do anything, little Anna had gasped with joy, then clapped and cried for the baby to do it again -- and _that_ had been the world’s first response to Elsa’s magic. 

Years later, Anna confirmed Iduna’s story, and then added her own piece to it: that though newborns couldn’t smile, couldn’t even see very far, she could’ve sworn her baby sister’s eyes had locked on her when she laughed, and could’ve sworn that Elsa’s eyes had lit up. 

When she’d struck Anna in the head, Anna had been thirteen. Old enough that even when the trolls took her memories of her sister’s magic, of the source of that laughter, she had raged against their father’s decision. 

“Day after day!” she had yelled at Agnarr while Elsa listened from the other side of the door, quaking, the ice forming beneath her. “Day after day, she stays shut up in there like an animal, and you can’t give me a single good reason why!”

Their father had argued and protested that it was for both girls’ own good, but Anna refused to back down, yelling and stamping her feet, outraged not at being cut off from the kingdom, but from her best friend in the world. 

So Elsa’s isolation from her family only lasted a month before Anna ran away from the guards, darted beneath their father’s hands and started trying to kick down the door. 

“No!” Elsa screamed, cowering under the bed, snowflakes swirling in the air. “Go away, Anna!”

“Not likely! I’m coming in!”

Then she slammed her shoulder into the door and did _not_ break it down, but _did_ nearly dislocate her arm. 

But the ice had weakened the wood so much that, on the next violent kick, it finally fell. 

Clutching her bruised shoulder, Anna stumbled inside...and took in the winter scene, blinking slowly.

“What the fuck.”

Elsa whimpered and retreated further under the bed. Anna shook her head, then walked right into the snowstorm, bending down to her little sister’s level. 

“Did you do this, Elsa? Elsa? Elsa, it’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y -- yeah.” Elsa clutched her hands, trying so hard to stop the storm, trying, it had been so easy before the accident, why couldn’t she control herself now? “G -- go away, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’d never hurt me.”

“But I did! I did!”

“Well maybe I don’t care! I don’t care, Elsa. I’m here for you. I’m here. No matter what.”

Still under the bed, Elsa forced herself to look her sister in the eye. There was no fear in Anna’s face, no disgust, no revulsion. Fierce, fearless determination lit her sister’s expression...and her eyes were soft with love. 

Elsa gasped softly. 

Two things happened just then. First of all, their parents finally caught up to their daughter, stopping dead in the middle of the ruined doorway. Second of all, though neither of them could see it at first, the tiny storm had dropped -- snowflakes hanging still in the air. 

“S’okay, Els.” Anna clutched her shoulder, wincing. Then she shuffled in place, belying her youth in her awkwardness, but her voice was steady. “I’m here. I love you.”

“Anna, be careful --” Agnarr started to say, but his wife shushed him. “Iduna --”

“Agnarr, shut up.” Iduna’s voice was breathless with awe. “Look.”

Elsa had no idea what they were talking about, but her chest felt less tight, and more warm. Her breathing came easier now. 

“C’mon out, kiddo,” Anna encouraged. She extended a hand under the bed, taking her little sister’s gloved hand, helping her out. It was only then that both sisters looked up, and realized that the snow had dissipated. 

After explaining everything to Anna, including the whole troll situation, Agnarr finally understood the necessity of their relationship and backed down on isolating the sisters from each other, agreeing instead to a compromise. Elsa could stay in contact with Anna, with all her loved ones, for that seemed to keep her powers in control more than anything, but for her own safety, would still only have limited contact with the kingdom’s populace. 

But the vision of Elsa being ripped apart by an angry mob, of their people turning on her and killing her, of that lingering warning against fear, still haunted Agnarr and Iduna -- and haunted their daughter in turn. 

Five years went by in this way, and when she wasn’t training to be the next queen, Anna was able to come and go from the castle grounds of her own free will, but Elsa mostly remained inside. 

She insisted that this was fine. But she dreamed of mountains and forests and the ability to travel with the wind and woke up with an ache in her chest. 

Her fear of crowds, of her own people, remained, but she was able to swiftly discard the gloves; even though her powers grew as she did, she had no more incidents, never endangered another soul. She practiced, still very careful, letting a little of her ice out every day, creating little ice-shapes and flurries and figures and sometimes even clothing out of snow that made her parents nod approvingly and Anna applaud. 

“You should meet our people, show them who you are,” Anna told her one day, while reading her a bedtime story, letting Elsa act out the events with little snow-figurines. Elsa was too old for that now, but it was less about the story and more about the ritual, the established time with her sister. She had no heart to tell Anna to stop. “I don’t care what Papa says, they won’t hate you. Your magic is beautiful, Elsa, and if anyone can’t see that, they’re just crazy.”

Elsa smiled tentatively. 

“I don’t want to risk it yet, Anna,” she said softly. “It’s one thing that you, Mama, and Papa love me. You’re my family, you _have_ to love me. Nobody else has any sort of obligation.”

“Yeah, but they would,” Anna pressed, but Elsa still refused to display her powers publicly. Anna kept encouraging her, trying to give her courage, but Elsa would always clam up at that, withdrawing, refusing to even consider it. 

Another night, towards the end of summer, she wondered aloud where her magic might have come from, and a strange light entered her mother’s eyes. A little while later, her father announced that he and his wife were going on a short trip, and would be back in two weeks’ time at the most. 

The day of the voyage, Agnarr and Iduna hugged both of their girls goodbye; Elsa flung herself into their arms as Anna came running in a way that did not befit the kingdom’s future queen -- but nobody scolded her. The royal family pulled together one last time, all four of them locked in each other’s loving embrace. 

“You’ll be fine,” Agnarr assured his daughters. 

Their ship never returned. 

Coming to the sisters with the news as they read under the trees in the castle grounds, Kai dropped to his knee before Anna and called her “Your Majesty,” and their world crashed to pieces all at once. 

Elsa emerged from the castle gates for the first time in five years for the funeral, the two sisters standing there numbly in their black dresses, and afterwards, they avoided the well-wishing mourners and retreated to Anna’s new room, the queen’s quarters. They held each other, and together, they wept. 

The next three years passed in a blur, and Elsa, returning to her isolation from the kingdom, barely had time to get used to calling her sister “Queen Anna” before she came of age, before she turned twenty-one and all of a sudden her coronation was next month, before the ships’ sails appeared on the horizon and she realized that she would be expected, as the crown princess, to entertain her queen’s guests.

“Anna, I’m scared,” she had dared to confess. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Anna had just come back from the bakery, checking up on the cake, and her sleeves were smeared with frosting and her crown was crooked. When she hugged her little sister, she was warm, and she smelled like melting chocolate. “I’m gonna be right here the whole time, okay?”

Elsa believed her, and the snowflakes hovering in the air dissolved. All Elsa had was Anna. And Anna had so many people, but she still came running, frantic, to her sister first. 

Elsa spent the night before the coronation memorizing every single one of the names and titles of everyone who was to come. She whispered them to herself, until they came as easy as breathing. Then she whispered each greeting, each thing to say, until she knew she could present the best image possible of Arendelle’s and Anna’s heir, a regal crown princess with grace and dignity and nothing to hide. 

The morning of, she dressed carefully and got to the chapel early, and, when the rest of the guests were all streaming in, realized that an unfamiliar man was sitting down next to her. She looked up to face him, and found herself looking into an easily smiling face with bright green eyes. 

“Princess Elsa?” he guessed. He had a smooth, even voice, like a practiced melody. “You look just like your sister.”

She nodded, controlled.

“Yes. I am. You’ve already met my sister?”

“Yes, I have. She seems like a very fine queen.” He extended a gloved hand to her bare one. “Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles, Your Highness.”

Elsa had read about the Southern Isles extensively. They were little more than a cluster of volcanic rocks off the coast of Denmark, relied heavily on fishing and imports, and her father had been close allies with the king -- whom she understood must be Prince Hans’ father. Allies, but not friends; Agnarr had used to talk about how deeply unpleasant, cold and brusque and borderline malicious the king of the Southern Isles was. 

“And _thirteen sons_ ,” Agnarr had added, seated at the big desk in his study, while Elsa sat across from him and did her geometry homework. “That’s just _begging_ for trouble. The eldest is going to have to look over his shoulder his whole life, and every kingdom in Europe is going to have the younger twelve sniffing around for a queen or crown princess to marry. To move up from being so low down the totem pole of inheritance, you see.”

Elsa had nodded, taking it in. But Anna had been in lessons late that day. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Elsa politely lied through her teeth. 

“You too, Your Highness. Your kingdom should be proud; you and your sister have clearly both grown up into fine, well-bred ladies...how old are you, seventeen?”

“Sixteen.”

“I see.”

Then the choir began to sing, and Hans mercifully shut up, for the queen had entered. Elsa got to her feet a split second before everyone else respectfully rose, while Anna descended down the chapel in her green gown, long green-and-gold cape, and sparkling crown, tripping slightly halfway down, but the whole time with a genuine happy smile on her lips. She waved a bit to her sister just before she reached the end, and Elsa, smiling, waved back. 

Bishop Petterson droned on about duty and responsibility and tradition for a while, and then he had Anna place her hand on the Bible. The choir still sang, just more softly, while everyone else held their breath.

_“I vow, upon the Crocus Throne, in the name of my people and my God, to always protect and uplift Arendelle and her people. I vow to cherish and uphold the values my predecessors have laid down before me; I vow to be fair, just, and to put the needs of the kingdom and the people ahead of my own. I vow, with God as my witness, to always do what is right and best for the Kingdom of Arendelle, Aren’s Valley, the Land of Snow and Flowers, from this day forth until I reign no longer.”_

Bishop Petterson watched as she then lifted the globe and scepter, as he recited the old Norse lines welcoming their new ruler, and when she set them back down, she was a full monarch of Arendelle and everyone applauded and cheered her name. And Elsa’s heart filled with pride. 

The reception went off without a hitch; Elsa smiled and nodded and most of the time was bored stiff, but Anna was happy and all the guests seemed satisfied. Though the old Duke of Weselton (she and Anna had called him the Duke of Weaseltown behind his back and between snickers when they were younger, and now all the staff did too), still wearing the godawful toupee that he’d first donned while working alongside her grandfather, _did_ try to rope her into a dance, but that was the absolute worst thing that happened, which she supposed was a good thing. 

“What is the legal marital limit in Arendelle?” he’d croaked while jumping around her in circles, despite her claim that she didn’t dance. “You and your sister both, now that you are grown, must do what’s right for your kingdom fairly soon, mustn’t you, and give it proper husbands to steer for you and children to inherit it, hm?”

Maybe it was her youth, but right then, the idea of getting married made the chocolate fondue from earlier crawl back up her throat. 

“‘None younger than eighteen may legally wed in Arendelle,’” she parroted from the legal books. “My ancestors believed that youth should be spent growing, finishing oneself. I knew of an old earl in one of our northern territories’ towns who tried to marry a fourteen-year-old, and my father fined him a thousand kroner.”

“Oh?”

“My point being, Your Grace, that my sister and I are both young,” she said diplomatically. “We still have much time to find -- to find appropriate suitors.”

The Duke glanced over her shoulder. 

“Hm. Seems though, that Her Majesty already has,” he said slyly.

Elsa looked around, and spotted her sister leaving the ballroom with a redheaded man in white on her arm. His head turned slightly, and, much to her shock, she immediately recognized those green eyes.

Far into the early hours of morning, after the party ended and the Arendellian earls and counts and dukes went home and the foreign diplomats and royals took their places in the guest rooms, Anna still seemed to walk on air. Elsa went to the queen’s quarters to check up on her and her sister was sitting before her mirror in her nightgown, brushing her hair out, humming happily to herself.

 _“Life can be so much more with you, with you,”_ she sang quietly, then, “Oh, hi Els! What a man, um, I mean, what a day, right? Wasn’t the party great? Being around all those people was really fun, wasn’t it?”

“Well, most of them seemed alright, yeah.” Elsa took the silver-backed brush and ran it through Anna’s wavy golden-red hair. Her own was still up in a braided bun; she hadn’t taken it out for bed yet. 

Anna kept talking, her face and eyes still shining. 

“I’m glad you think so! I mean, you’ll have plenty of time to keep getting to know them. A lot of them came from pretty far, they’re not gonna stay for just one day, I mean, would you? We can show them the castle, the kingdom, oh, Olina’s going to have a field day showing off all her best recipes...it’s going to be such fun…” Her expression became dreamy. “Especially when you have someone specific to show it to.”

“Prince Hans?”

“Yes, exactly! Oh, Elsa, he was _wonderful_ . So kind, so gracious, a perfect gentleman, and we have so much in _common_ \--”

The conversation about Hans did not end when they finally went to bed. For the next two weeks, as the foreign representatives remained in the kingdom, every time she saw Anna, Hans seemed to be with her. Elsa, who grew more agitated the longer she was with strangers, still offered to show them around the castle, to keep entertaining them, just so that she didn’t have to talk to Hans any more than she absolutely had to. He was polite, yes, very charming, yes, but there was _still_ something about him that sat wrong with her. 

The other representatives left, including the Duke of Weselton, thank God. But Hans stayed. 

Three weeks passed since the coronation, and by then, he was claiming the premise of a stronger trade agreement between Arendelle and the Southern Isles. 

“He’s very interested in our kingdom, isn’t he?” Elsa muttered.

“Elsa, you don’t _always_ have to fear the worst in people. He means no harm. Can you just trust my judgement?”

With no good response to that, and feeling exceedingly irritated, Elsa found herself walking all the way to the palace gates. Found her fingers tracing the great wooden doors, wondering, wondering if she dared to step outside. To take the risk of exposing her powers.

But after eight years of being shut up inside the castle...especially now with Hans in it…

“Hey, you,” came a gruff voice. “If you’re gonna go, go. Don’t just fucking stand there all day.”

Elsa wheeled, looking for whomever dared speak to her like that.

 _Whomever_ turned out to require her to crane her neck all the way back to look him in the eyes. He was an enormous, broad-shouldered, shaggy-haired young blond man in shabby clothes, a red scarf tied around his waist, a dry expression on his face. Beside him was a wagon loaded with blocks of ice packed in with sawdust, and a reindeer hitched to said wagon, looking curiously at Elsa.

“If you’re on the way to the market --” He inclined his head towards his wagon, indicating that that was where _he_ was going, “-- you should especially get going. I imagine the queen and the princess --” He put on a fake snooty voice to say _the queen and the princess_ , and Elsa started, feeling the odd urge to laugh, “-- don’t like delays.”

“Sir, with all due respect, though you’ve shown me none...I _am_ the princess. Princess Elsa.”

“Oh.” The man raised his eyebrows. “Huh.”

The reindeer snorted in what sounded like exasperation.

Despite being trained to show outrage at lack of respect, Elsa was further amused by his refusal to apologize.

“And you are?”

“Kristoff. Kristoff Bjorgman.” He scratched his hair, and she thought about lice and fleas. “Though it beats me why you’d care.”

“Well, you _could_ show me the way to the edge of the fjord. And the best way to avoid the crowds.”

He gave her a bemused look. 

“You really have never left the palace gates, have you?”

She drew in her arms, rubbing her hands.

“Elsa! Elsa!”

Both turned, and by the time they did, Anna finished running across the courtyard and made it over to them. 

“Elsa, I’m sorry you don’t like Hans, but I promise that he --” She trailed off, craning her neck back as well. “Who is this?”

“Why? Do you want something, Your Majesty?”

Elsa leaned against the gate and watched for a solid twenty minutes while Anna and Kristoff bickered, with no inclination to stop them. Only when Anna got on her tiptoes to literally and figuratively get in his face did Elsa say:

“Anna, I was thinking he could guide us through the kingdom.”

Her sister brightened. 

“But can we...still avoid the crowds, please?”

“I, um, I guess so.” Anna turned to Kristoff. “ _Can_ you take us?”

“I don’t take people places.”

Elsa put a hand over her mouth, stifling more giggles, while Anna’s eyes narrowed.

“Let me rephrase that. _Take us_.”

He stared at them.

“You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“She really doesn’t,” Elsa smiled from behind her hand. “And not because she’s the Queen.”

Kristoff groaned. 

But he did end up taking them, and his reindeer, whom he introduced as Sven, around and past the busy areas of the kingdom to a small secluded corner of the fjord, before he headed into the market to sell his ice. 

“You two stay safe, okay?” he said gruffly. 

“‘Stay safe?’” Elsa echoed. “You _do_ care.”

“I’d just hate to find out through the newspapers that I got the queen and princess killed. I’m not close with enough people to get bail.”

But he did smile faintly, in a what-have-I-gotten-myself-into kind of way, as he left.

Having successfully avoided the crowds, while Anna got her bearings, Elsa found herself staring out at the lush pines, the pebbly shore, the smooth, glittering surface of the water that stretched beneath and beyond the great expansive cliffs. She turned her head north, facing the far-away mountains...feeling an odd tugging sensation in her chest as she did.

“I never knew how beautiful this place was,” she murmured.

Anna looked at her sister, at her open awe, and her expression softened. 

“I guess that Kristoff’s not so bad after all,” she acknowledged, and the two took off their shoes and stockings and pulled up their skirts to their thighs, which would’ve made Gerda faint, and ventured into the chilly fjord, laughing and trying to catch fish and splashing each other for hours. 

Afterwards, they found themselves meeting up with Kristoff almost every day in between the running of the kingdom, and in between Hans’ courting and constant queries about Anna’s work. Kristoff resisted at first, calling them both crazy and pretending like it was a waste of his time, but his pretension lasted only a couple of days before he no longer hid his smiles. 

Soon, instead, whenever he was around the sisters, but _especially_ whenever he was around Anna, he began smiling even more, laughing -- making Anna smile and laugh in turn, her eyes always seeming to crinkle when she was around him, even when they were bickering. They so clearly made each other more happy. 

One day while Anna had hay in her hair and mud on her dress and was laughing uproariously at something Sven had done, Elsa glanced over at Kristoff and caught him gazing at her sister. The late-afternoon summer sun cast the kingdom in gold and illuminated Anna’s hair like strands of fire as she threw her head back, and as he looked at her, something soft and warm entered his eyes. 

Elsa, who was usually so leery of men and romance, accepted this at once in her heart.

It was late August when the two sisters snuck out of the castle at night. Anna took the quick way through the center of town, while Elsa took the long way to avoid any onlookers, and they met him at their usual spot on the fjord. Sven had already fallen asleep, and Kristoff was busy starting a fire. He jumped when he saw them, and the sparks ignited. 

“Did you sneak out? Did you actually, honest-to-gods sneak out?”

“You betcha,” Anna said brightly, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards. 

“You two might be the craziest rulers this kingdom has ever had,” he said affectionately.

“You have no idea,” Elsa smiled. 

They sat on either side of him, and the three shared sips of aquavit (Elsa wasn’t allowed to have too much), and he played his lute while both sisters clapped their hands and sang, and Elsa realized that this was the first time she’d ever had a friend who didn’t work for her and wasn’t directly related to her. She tentatively leaned against his arm, and he ruffled her hair with his big hand, ruining her neat updo and making her squeal because his hands were covered in ash and reindeer fur.

But the fire warmed her, the stars glittered above, and the night wind smelled like lingering sunshine and evergreen. Moonlight rippled on the fjord like a hammered sheet of silver, and though she didn’t dare see her people, she was outside. She was free.

She hadn’t been so happy since she was eight years old.   
Smiling, shutting her eyes, she flicked her hands, swirling them almost unconsciously. A second later, Anna gasped, and her eyes flew open again. 

She barely had time to take in that the snowman was the same shape as the one from the night she’d struck Anna, that her magic had picked up sticks from the ground and used coals from the fire, before the snowman opened its eyes and beamed at the three of them.

“Hi.”

Anna and Kristoff both screamed loudly and shrilly, waking up Sven, who leapt to his hooves and bellowed while Anna’s foot lashed out, kicking the snowman’s head off and sending it a good ten feet down the beach. 

“Okay, we got off to a rough start,” said the disembodied head while Anna tried to climb up Kristoff’s shoulders and Sven ran in circles and Kristoff shrieked (he would claim later that it was not a shriek, but a manly shout) at the top of his lungs: _“What on Frey’s green earth IS that thing?”_

Elsa, for her part, got to her feet, as if in a dream, walking over to the head and picking it up. It smiled toothily at her while she gaped. 

“You’re alive?” she breathed.

It looked up pensively, humming. 

“Um, most likely, yes.”

“And you can talk? And think?”

“Um, I _think_ I can think.”

Anna and Kristoff had finally calmed down enough to now just be frozen in place, staring. Even Sven stared. The head, seemingly unaware of their shock, wiggled slightly in Elsa’s hands until it faced everyone at once. 

“Oh, _there’s_ all those other guys! Okay, let’s start this thing over. Hi everyone, I’m Olaf. And I like warm hugs!”

Elsa gasped. Anna’s eyes grew very, very wide. 

“Again…” said their friend. “What the literal actual hell?”

Elsa swallowed hard, ducking her head. 

Anna spent the next few minutes explaining the whole ice-powers situation to Kristoff, Olaf’s original creation, the accident, their encounter with the trolls, and Elsa’s subsequently being confined to the castle. All the while, Elsa’s heart hammered; she was terrified, certain that the reasons for her isolation would prove true, that her accidental creation would lead to driving away their friend. 

Kristoff was silent for a moment. It seemed to last an eternity.

Then he turned and faced his reindeer.   
“This is all _your_ fault,” he said in a half-joking tone. “ _You_ were the one who said we should get to know some new people.”

 _“I still stand by that, Kristoff,”_ he seemed to answer himself, as Sven. 

Elsa wondered if she should comment on that and eventually chose not to. 

“It’s fine, Elsa. Really.” He patted her slightly awkwardly on the shoulder. Then: “Do you think...you could show me your um, magic again? Just real quick?”

She extended her hands, carefully swirling them in a circle, conjuring up a small shower of flakes. He stared, an expression of awe on his face, and her fear of his rejection all fell away. 

Anna, for her part, climbed down from his shoulders and moved over to her sister, taking Olaf’s head and placing it back on his body. Then, as if on a whim, picked up one of Sven’s carrots and stuck it on his face in place of a nose. 

“Oh! I always wanted a nose! The whole ten minutes I’ve been alive, noseless, you know, it was just too much.”

“He’s just like a little child, isn’t he?” Elsa murmured to Anna. Her sister actually smiled, taking another look at Olaf, who was now waddling over to Sven, who attempted to bite off his nose, making him giggle. 

“Yeah...you know, I told you. Your magic is beautiful. And Kristoff’s not scared of it _or_ you.”

As they spoke, Kristoff picked off one of Olaf’s stick arms and was examining his snow, apparently trying to see how it worked. One of the coals fell off and hit him in the eye. 

“Yeah, but Kristoff’s not exactly normal himself, is he?”

“Well, that’s true.”

“I like you guys,” Olaf declared, right after his detached stick-arm swatted Kristoff in the face. He took his coal and his stick-arm back. “Ooh, and this fire is nice too.”

Elsa hastily conjured a snow flurry above his head, just as he moved closer to the flames, extending his arms to feel the warmth; once he was safe, both sisters smiled, and even Kristoff looked content again. 

Just as she suddenly heard footsteps from a fairly close distance, heard an unfortunately familiar voice call out:

“Anna? _Anna!_ Elsa? Where are you?”

Anna’s eyes widened. Elsa seized Olaf around the middle and ran into the trees, hiding them both behind the girth of an old pine just as Hans, lantern in hand, entered the little campsite. 

“Anna.” His voice was soft, but Elsa heard an undercurrent of anger in it. “There you are. Where’s your sister?”

“Oh. Hans. In the castle, where she always is, um, duh.” Anna sounded obviously nervous. “Is she not in bed? Then she’s probably in the library.”

Olaf opened his mouth, and Elsa clamped her hand over it.

“I see. And so you’re alone out here with this...man.”

“What? No. I’m not alone. See? See? The reindeer’s here too.”

“Anna…” Elsa definitely heard some kind of anger in Hans’ voice, disguised as soft, melodic. “I love you more than anyone or anything, you know that. My dearest, my future bride, you are the queen, yet you meet up with strange men in the middle of the night when you are already engaged. How do you think that reflects on us, hm?”

 _His future WHAT?_ _WHAT?_

“First of all,” Kristoff cut in gruffly, and slightly too hastily, “Anna and I are just friends. Second of all, you two may be engaged, but you don’t _own_ her. Also, _engaged?_ Haven’t you two only known each other, like, seven weeks?” Elsa peeked around the tree, fully in agreement, and saw him turn from Anna and address only Hans. “Was this your idea, Highness? What’s the rush? Are you pregnant?”

Hans’ face remained mostly smooth, but Elsa saw his eye twitch.

“You’re lacking in couth, I see.”

“Couth? Couth? Who the hell says couth? What the hell even _is_ couth?”

“Kristoff, it’s not a rush when it’s true love,” Anna interrupted. “And Hans, please be nice. He _is_ my friend.”

Both men eyed each other with near-palpable hostility while Elsa’s heart nearly hammered out of her chest. 

“When’s the wedding?” Kristoff managed to say. His voice cracked slightly on the last word.

“I dunno yet,” Anna admitted. “We haven’t worked out all the details, we need some time to plan the ceremony -- and first I gotta tell Elsa, I need her blessing. And I need her to be my maid of honor!”

Elsa’s heart cracked too. 

“She’ll have no reason _not_ to give her blessing,” Hans said to Anna, his voice soft and smooth again. “It’s a good match between our countries...and it’s true love. Whyever would she say no to our kingdoms’ benefit and our happiness?”

Kristoff scowled, glaring at the tops of his boots. But when he looked back up at Anna, his expression was gentler. 

“You two should go back to the castle,” he said, voice still rough. “People will be wondering where you are.”

“Kris --” Anna started to say.

“Really. It’s fine. You’re the Queen. You should go.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Anna sounded reluctant. Then she deliberately raised her voice: “Especially since I need to go find Elsa! At the castle! To ask for her blessing; I really do hope she gives it.”

When Anna and Hans left, Elsa stepped back out to Kristoff and Sven, Olaf still in her arms. Elsa couldn’t look her friend in the eye as he kicked rocks and sand over the embers. Sven brayed sadly.

“Anna’s getting married!” the little snowman enthused, not reading the room at all. “Ooh, I love weddings! Granted, I’ve never been to one, but still!” 

Elsa put him down on the ground, and he waddled over and hugged Sven around the legs, babbling on about how glad he was for Anna and what’s-his-face, as long as Anna was happy.

“Olaf, I have to ask something of you.”

“Okay!”

“Will you help me keep an eye on Anna? And…” She looked at Kristoff. “On this one too? He needs the company.”

“Ooh, yes, yes! I’ll be happy to keep an eye on Anna, she’s my new best friend, and on him, you can count on me to make sure he doesn’t get up to anything…” He trailed off. “Wait, why do you say that so sadly?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re right, Olaf. As long as Anna’s happy, we should be too.” She forced a smile, brittle around the edges. “No matter how we really feel.”

Kristoff looked up. He dipped his head in agreement; her heart hurt on his behalf, she did wish Anna could’ve been happy with _him_ instead. Anyone _but_ Hans, really, but especially him, because commoner or no, terrible hygiene and all, Kristoff was their friend. 

She managed to sneak Olaf back into the castle and into her room, and when Anna officially announced her engagement at breakfast the next morning -- all the servants looked rather like they’d been metaphorically slapped in the face -- Elsa forced another smile and wished them congratulations and her blessing. Anna threw aside propriety and ran across the room and embraced her sister, and Elsa believed in her heart that she was doing the right thing. 

Days passed, and August became September. Olaf turned out to be full of energy and enthusiasm, and it was near-impossible to keep him hidden; he seemed to love people as much as Anna did, and happily tailed after either her, Elsa, or Kristoff and Sven at all times (he _especially_ loved Sven). Elsa was often forced to hide him in her room, so that he didn’t expose himself, and, by extension, her too, to the rest of the castle or kingdom.

They received a letter from the king of the Southern Isles after sending out the engagement notice, full of thinly-veiled surprise in his youngest son being able to find a willing wife, wishing Anna luck in a way that read suspiciously like _“good luck, not with the usual things about marriage one might have to tackle, but specifically good luck in dealing with this particular child of mine.”_

“I don’t like to say this of anyone,” Anna told her sister, “but I can’t think of any nice way to say it -- that was unkind. The way he treats his own children is appalling.”

“It does seem like that,” Elsa said truthfully. “The man’s on his fifth wife, all of the other four died, and none of his sons exactly seem better off for it.”

The first wife, according to Hans, had been a Danish duchess and the only one his father had loved. They had married at twenty, and she bore him four sons before succumbing to river fever and taking all the King’s kindness and gentleness with her. The second had been nineteen, a Spanish princess, and she had had three sons before falling from her horse in a hunting accident. The third had been eighteen, an French marquess’s daughter, and she had had five sons before drowning in a sailing accident. The fourth and the last to have children had been a half-Irish English noblewoman with beautiful red hair; she’d been twenty-two and had bled to death in childbirth with her only son -- the one Anna was now marrying. The fifth, the current one, was a twenty-five-year-old Swedish countess, younger than almost all of the King’s sons, who apparently didn’t seem to like Hans very much...not that Elsa could blame her. 

“ _Your_ children will be far better off,” Elsa said, meaning it. “They’ll have you. And I...I will love them too. With all my heart.” 

She meant that as well. 

Anna pulled her into a hug, and Elsa nestled into it. 

“I don’t want to be like other royalty,” Anna confessed. “As awful as it is when people whisper behind their hands about us, I still don’t want to be proper, or what other people deem respectable, I want us to be ourselves. I don’t want a ‘good match,’ I want real love. I want a family that takes care of each other.”

“Mother and Father loved each other,” Elsa murmured.

Why else would Agnarr risk his council’s wrath and the scorn of every royal and nobleman in Europe to marry an orphaned peasant girl with a murky past? Why else would Iduna bear that scorn and derision her whole life for daring to marry the King of Arendelle? It would not have been worth it otherwise, but, as Elsa knew, you did things you might never have even considered before in the name of love. 

“Yeah, they did.” Anna smiled, then rolled her eyes. “Don’t get it twisted, I’m still mad at them, y’know, for trying to cut us off from each other and cutting _you_ off from the world, but...damn it, I know they loved us, the bastards. And I know they loved each other.”

Elsa glanced at the miniature painting on Anna’s desk, the tiny reproduction of Agnarr’s and Iduna’s wedding portrait, right next to the miniature of the two sisters at seven and twelve. She wondered about their parents, about what they had _really_ thought of their daughters.

“And that’s what I want,” Anna finished. “I want to take care of the kingdom and everyone in it, but I don’t care what they say about my family. Because most of all, I want _us_ to love each other.” She playfully tapped her little sister’s nose; Elsa giggled, even though she was too old for it. “And I want that for you too! To find _your_ Prince Charming and be happy with _him_ as well. Not right this second, duh, you’re still a kid, but in a few years, I want you to have love too, Els. It feels so wonderful, when it’s good. Like a real fairy tale.”

“I believe you,” Elsa said, choking down her lingering doubts about Hans that threatened to spoil the mood. Biting back her wanting to say that _maybe_ she didn’t _want_ to get married. Maybe. 

The wedding was hastily set for the end of the month, before the first frosts would set in. Invitations were sent out to all their current friends and allies, to potential friends and allies, all while Hans grew more disapproving of Anna spending time in the kingdom alone. 

“I’m the Queen,” she’d protested. “I need to take care of my people.”

“But you’re also an engaged woman,” he’d replied. “It looks suspicious to be out and about amongst strange men. Besides, since you’ll be married, you won’t ever do things alone, you and I will do everything together. You have to understand that, and why it’s strange for a woman such as yourself to do things alone.”

“I don’t care what it is, or what it looks like. My people are what matter.” Anna sounded hurt. “I thought you understood that.”

“Oh, Anna, of course I do. I’m simply concerned for you as well. A ruler’s image is fragile. Just look at your father. He struggled for years to recover from the hit to his reputation that was choosing to marry your mother.”

“My mother wasn’t a ‘hit to his reputation,’ she was his wife! He loved her! I can’t keep or cut people out based on whether they do or don’t boost my public image. That’s no way to live.”

“Anna, my dearest, you’re being hysterical. I can’t take you seriously when you’re like this. Calm yourself, and then I can talk to you like an adult.”

More arguments like that had been cropping up lately. As the wedding date drew nearer and the leaves began to turn red around the edges and cold crept into the nights, the two sisters found themselves having to be more secretive than ever, having to dodge Hans almost constantly in order to keep Olaf hidden and to keep seeing Kristoff and Sven. 

The five of them found the stables an ideal meeting spot, for though Hans’ horse was staying there along with the sisters’ mounts, he hated actually going into the stables, always having a groom withdraw Sitron from his stall for him. And though Elsa had to gingerly pick her way around the straw and manure, once they were inside, she was settled by the presence of her loved ones, calmed by the horses’ soft breathing and whickering, often stopping to stroke their necks and muzzles. Sven would always settle happily onto a mound of straw with a bagful of carrots, and Olaf would lie on the reindeer’s back, and the three humans would gather beside them to talk or share food and drink. Occasionally, whenever they heard someone coming, they would have to grab Olaf and hide in the tack room and hope nobody thought the reindeer was out of place, but if Jan the stablemaster ever noticed anything off, he never said a word. 

One day, Kristoff asked:

“Elsa, why don’t you reveal your powers?”

She had an answer all ready, replying mechanically:

“Because we don’t know which of our allies could turn against us for my having them, or which of our enemies would make an attempt on my life, or how many people in Arendelle are still afraid of magic and whether the ones that are would turn against our family --”

“No. Really.” He paused. “Elsa, your powers are...incredible.”

“Oh yeah,” Olaf agreed. “And I’m not just saying that because without your powers I wouldn’t be alive.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Though what does it mean, really, to be alive?”

Sven snorted.

“Brilliant!” Olaf enthused. “I can always count on you to give the wisest answers, Sven.”

“Olaf, hey,” Anna said, “could you and Sven go to the other side of the stables for a minute? I need someone to look at the wall and check it for mold.”

“That sounds suspiciously convenient for you three to have a private conversation without us, but okay, I still believe you.”

Once they left, Anna turned to her younger sister. 

“Elsa, he’s right. Your powers _are_ incredible, they’re a beautiful, inherent part of you, and you shouldn’t have to keep hiding them.” 

She and Kristoff then spoke at the same time:

“They won’t turn against you --”

“-- if they do turn against you, fuck them.”

They looked at each other. 

“They _won’t_ ,” Anna insisted. “I _know_ these people. And she’s their princess. I don’t care what Father said, they wouldn’t just suddenly start thinking of her as a monster.”

“Oh yes they would,” Kristoff replied. There was a bitter edge to his voice. “Most people are absolutely horrible; narrow-minded, cruel, and judgemental. Elsa shouldn’t reveal herself out of hope that they’ll accept her, she should be free to be herself no matter _what_ people think of her.”

“How can you be so dismissive of these people?” Anna said angrily. “How can you give up on them so easily?”

“How can _you_ think that everyone will love Elsa just because _we_ do?”

Elsa bowed her head, pressing her hands over her ears. The temperature in the stables dropped, the horses pawed the floor anxiously. 

“Ughh!” Anna threw her hands up, almost smacking a lantern off the hook. Her voice grew to a shout. “Because I believe in her, Kristoff Bjorgman! Because I think she’s an amazing, extraordinary person, and every time I look at her I think, why _wouldn’t_ anyone love her? _Why wouldn’t they?_ ”

“Stop it, both of you!” Elsa cried. “Please!”

Both of the adults stopped arguing and turned to look at her. 

“Sorry, kiddo.” Kristoff’s voice dropped back to a low, soft rumble. “I...I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

She sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Ice had appeared under her feet, and a few snowflakes hung in the air. 

“I know you didn’t,” she rasped. “Please don’t be mad at him, Anna.”

Anna started, then smiled a little sadly, a little wryly.

“Ah, I could never be mad at this guy for long.” She stood on her tiptoes and affectionately ruffled his hair; the two shared looks that let Elsa know they weren’t fighting anymore. “As long as he remembers that _he_ , at least, should think that you're extraordinary.”

“Actually, I think she’s downright normal.” Kristoff huffed out a breath, smiling faintly at both sisters. “I’ve seen weirder. In fact...while we’re on the subject...there’s something I need to tell you girls.”

Both stared as he explained that he had been raised by rock trolls in a hidden valley, that his adoptive mother was the daughter of the troll shaman that had unfrozen Anna’s head and had shown Elsa, Iduna, and Agnarr those terrible visions, that Kristoff _had been there that night_. 

“Have you ever told anyone else?” Anna asked. 

“Once, when I was ten. I told another ice harvester’s son about who my family were, and his parents tried to have me committed to Fredelige Blomster Asylum. I never made the mistake of trusting anyone else with who they and I really were after that.”

 _Except us,_ Elsa thought, stricken. _We are to him exactly what he is to us._

Anna softened further. She stood on her tiptoes again to brush a strand of blond hair out of his eyes.

“Kris, we believe you, okay? We’ll never try to put you away. You’re our friend.”

“Yeah…” He was still looking at Anna when he spoke again. “Alright, fine. I guess reindeers aren’t better than _all_ people.”

“Agreed,” Elsa said softly, looking at Anna too. 

“Told you,” Anna said brightly, unaware. “I _told_ you, and now I fixed your faith in humanity, didn’t I?”

Kristoff ducked his head. 

They were quiet together for a moment after that, unsure of what to do next. Then Elsa heard it, heard the footsteps approaching on the cobblestones, heard Hans calling for his future bride in his smooth, perfect voice.

Kristoff pushed Sven into the nearest empty stall and dove in after him, pulling the door shut, both of them lying on the straw; Elsa grabbed Olaf and ducked, as usual, into the tack room. 

“Oh, Anna, what are you doing in this filthy place?”

“Hey, how come _we_ can never talk to Hans?” Olaf whispered far too loudly, and Elsa clamped his mouth shut, feeling guilty as she did. 

“Just came to check on Kjekk. Poor thing’s tired after our ride all over the kingdom yesterday,” Anna said hastily. “What are _you_ doing here, Hans? You hate the stables.”

“I was wondering if _you_ were tired, dearest. Yesterday, you had two meetings, an audience with the blacksmiths, and went from here to the docks to Jødiskegate checking up on everyone to make sure they’ll be set for winter. And the people you encountered at the docks and Jødiskegate…”

Elsa knew from listening to the servants that the docks were crawling with sailors, tough and sea-weary and foul-mouthed, and with brothels: the Dukkehus, the Hus av Fjellrosen, the Menasjeri. She also knew her grandfather had specifically created Jødiskegate for the Jewish families to live, slightly apart from the rest of Arendelle, and she knew how newcomers to the kingdom pointed at the little district and whispered as if it were a place of quarantine. 

“I _liked_ those people, actually. Those sailors, ooh, they had the best stories to tell, all the women at the Hus av Fjellrosen were so sweet and friendly, and Rabbi Jakobsen welcomed me right into his house! Oh my God, Hans, Mrs. Jakobsen made the _best_ lapskaus I’ve ever had in my life --”

“Anna!” Hans snapped. Elsa and Olaf both tensed. There was a slight _thump_ that indicated that Kristoff and Sven had started too. “I _worry_ about you! God only knows all the places you go, and all that you do --”

“Hans, I _need_ to do this!” Anna raised her voice even louder, and Elsa silently congratulated her. “They are _my people!_ I am _their queen!_ Of course I delegate, of course I don’t do everything personally, but if we don’t take care of _every_ person in this kingdom, if I don’t make sure _everyone_ , no matter who they are, is safe and at peace, who will? You are going to be their king, they’re going to be _your_ people too, and even if you weren’t, this is important to me! Do you not understand?” Hurt had seeped into Anna’s voice. “Do you really not understand, even after all those times you said you love me?”

Hans took a deep, sharp breath, and it seemed like he would shout right back at her. 

“Oh, Anna. I never said it wasn’t important.” Instead, his voice became softer, more steady than ever. “I never said you shouldn’t do this.”

“But...but you just…”

“You’re confused, dearest. I agree, you _are_ a queen, and you _should_ take care of your people.” He breathed out again. “I never said I was worried because I don’t trust or don’t care about them. I only worry about you because I love you so much. It keeps me up at night, it breaks my heart when I don’t know where you are, when you don’t feel you can trust me enough to be honest with me.”

“I…” Anna’s voice broke. The temperature in the stables abruptly dropped; frost began seeping out from under Elsa’s hands and feet. “I _am_ honest with you.”

“Oh, Anna.” Hans put hurt into _his_ voice. “Even now, you lie to me? Even though we’re less than two weeks from you being my wife? Good wives do not lie to their husbands.”

“I...I…”

“When you decide to tell me the truth, I will be here.” There was a soft noise, like he had just kissed Anna’s forehead. “I will not be angry with you, as long as you are honest. As long as you are a good wife to me.”

His footsteps receded. Anna took a deep, shuddering breath, which swiftly became a sob. Then she left too.

Elsa and Kristoff emerged from their hiding places, staring at each other in incredulity. Sven looked outraged. Olaf looked hurt and confused. 

“He made Anna cry,” Kristoff summed up after a minute. Then, in a growl: “Who does that _bastard_ think he is?”

“How can he talk to her like that?” Elsa managed to say, cupping and rubbing her hands. “I didn’t like him before, but now…”

“I’m going to go give that son of a bitch a piece of my mind --”

“Kristoff, don’t!” Elsa threw up a small wall of ice, stopping him in his tracks. “He’s going to take that as proof...he thinks you’re having an affair with her, or at least that you’re planning to. He knows that you’re in love with her.”

Kristoff’s mouth fell open. He stared at her for a long time, his face red...then he ducked his head, his shoulders slumping. 

“Elsa...I…”

“Yeah.” Elsa didn’t know what to do to comfort someone, so she took down her ice wall, reaching up to cup his cheek, like what Anna sometimes did for her. “I...I’m really sorry.”

“You aren’t mad? I mean, she’s your sister, and I --”

“No. It’s okay.” Elsa smiled faintly at him. “You’re a good one.” Teasingly: “Even if you _are_ a misanthropic giant who smells like reindeer.”

“ _Hey._ ” But he managed to smile a bit back, even if his eyes were still sorrowful. Sven gently nudged his arm, and he got the hint, taking the smaller girl and pulling her into a hug. She held on too as they both worried; Elsa knew Anna was okay among the multitudes of her people, among sailors and farmers and merchants and bankers and prostitutes and immigrants and rabbis, she never worried that they were evil or would hurt Anna (only that her own magic was _wrong_ enough to make good people who loved her sister hurt _her_ , that she would deserve it). But she now also knew that Anna might _not_ be okay with her own husband-to-be.

They pulled apart, and Elsa said:

“Look, _I’ll_ confront Hans. _I’m_ the crown princess, while _he’s_ just a guest here as long as he and Anna aren’t yet married. You and Sven just stay safe, okay? I don’t want either of you getting in trouble when I could easily handle this by myself.”

He put his big hands on her shoulders.

“Okay. But _you_ stay safe too, Elsa.”

She smiled sadly.

“You _do_ care.”

“Yeah. I do.”

Hans turned out to be difficult to get alone; days flew by, and ships full of royals and nobles and politicians and diplomats began trickling back into the harbor. Just over a week till the wedding, and Arendelle appeared full to bursting with people coming from everywhere from Stockholm to Eldora, while neither Anna nor Hans ever seemed to be alone. 

_It’ll soon be too late. I have to protect her,_ Elsa thought desperately. _She’s my sister. I’ll do anything._

So while Anna was in one of the living rooms entertaining the princess of Corona and her consort, Elsa knelt on the floor just outside Hans’ room -- technically one of the guest rooms, as he wasn’t supposed to move into the queen’s quarters till after the wedding. A small sliver of ice to jiggle the lock, and the door clicked open with ease. 

“Hans, I need to talk to you…”

She trailed off. The room was empty. Everything was neat and orderly, the bed made, the books -- Sun Tzu’s _The Art of War_ , Shakespeare’s _Macbeth_ , Machiavelli’s _The Prince_ , Webster’s _The Duchess of Malfi,_ among others -- organized alphabetically by author, everything so clean and well-placed so as to appear almost cold, lacking in personality. Though Elsa kept her room clean and organized, her desk, at least, was always overflowing with texts, journals, ink bottles, protractors, papers scribbled with architectural designs and geometric equations, and she always had at least one book she was reading on her nightstand. But not only was _his_ nightstand empty, but even Hans’ desk was impeccable, not a quill out of place, not a drop of ink to mar the wood. Only a single small journal was left upon the desk, right next to the stoppered black inkwell. 

Disappointed and slightly unsettled, Elsa turned to leave. But that journal kept catching her eye. His private thoughts...she was disgusted with herself for even thinking about it, even in regards to someone like Hans. She, of all people, should respect others’ privacy. 

But Anna. 

Steeling herself, Elsa walked over and picked up the journal, thumbing to the entry dated _July 1, 1839._

_Coronation day._ Even his handwriting was perfect; she read it with ease, unlike Anna’s messy scrawl. _As planned, I met the young queen. I had braced myself for rejection, as she is the older sister, and thus groomed for greatness; steeled myself to have to try my luck with the never-seen younger one, the spare._ Elsa swallowed back bile. _But luck smiled on me. She succumbed to my charms at once, we’ve known each other but a day and she’s already smitten with me. I am better at this than I thought...either that or women really are all the same. She’s a_ queen _and she’s simpering like a little girl at the basest flattery, the most shallow of agreements with her empty-headed ideas and opinions. If I continue my suit, and can swallow back my disgust with this silly little child of a queen, I predict I will be married to her in a year, maybe less._

_July 2. Queen Anna -- just Anna, she insists I call her by her Christian name already -- still lavishes her affection on me while her asocial sister, Princess Elsa, skulks around corners. There’s something wrong with that one; nearly old enough to be married and she never willingly interacts with a soul. But it’s worth it for the ease of access to Arendelle. A kingdom of rich natural resources, of great wealth for a place so small, and a queen that bows and sways for me like a cobra before a snake charmer._

_July 4. I told her I loved her and she believed me. The most foolish of women._

_July 5. I explored Arendelle’s lumber operations today. Great potential. The Duke of Weselton squawks on and on about the kingdom’s tradable goods, but he is right. When I am king, when I marry her, all this will be mine. Only have to put up with her silliness a little longer -- and then I can mold her into a proper wife, a proper queen._

Elsa kept reading in horror. Dates flashed out at her as she turned the pages with shaking hands. 

_July 22. Now no one else will marry her, she and her virginity are mine. Though I must add several more things to the list of things to improve about her once we are married...I claimed a stronger trade agreement to get her sister off my back, the little freak loves to glare at me, pouting like a child over her breakfast coffee. But now they’ve snuck out to meet some peasant boy...should I worry? Perhaps. The queen_ is _a needy whore at heart._

_July 30. Peasant boy again. Dungeons for him if I catch him with my bride._

_August 5. My bride...it is official. She said yes. Now her sister may pout all she wants, the little abomination. I wonder if her reasons for refusing human company, courtship, are to do with sexual perversions of her own; if she weren’t crown princess, she would be in_ _Fredelige Blomster. Perhaps I can commit her behind her sister’s back someday. Or perhaps I may have to stage a little accident for her..._

_August 12. Am considering taking down portraits of the former king and queen to make room for our own when I am king. The last one did marry a peasant girl, after all. Only fools rule with their hearts._

_August 15. I wonder if my bride will be able to bear sons, considering that her mother could not. And considering that my mother only managed to have me before she died...though that would be no problem. If she does die, it will be no loss, as I will still have Arendelle. And I will have my pick of any princess in all Europe._

_August 30. Is that peasant boy having an affair with her? Need proof. Have found none so far._

_September 3. Obstinate little bitches. The Arendelle bloodline was clearly tainted by their mother._

_September 10. Have been allowed to oversee the ice harvest. Saw the boy, he still stares after the castle in the distance like he actually has a chance with her. I almost feel sorry for him. He clearly doesn’t know he’s not missing anything._

_September 12. She’s been all over the kingdom, I need a leash for her. I need to break her in, like we do with the horses._

_September 13. That sister of hers…_

_September 15. All is well. Today is a good day._

The ink was still wet on the most recent entry. 

“Enjoying a bit of light reading, Your Highness?”

She wheeled, and his green eyes instantly filled her view. 

Even as her heart hammered, even as her breath shook, being forced to look up to face him and the storm clouds in his expression, her shoulders grew taut. After eight years of seclusion, of lies and secrets, in that moment, Princess Elsa of Arendelle finally reached for her voice.

“You _bastard._ ” It was as cold as the northmost winter wind, shaking with barely-contained rage. She never swore, she had always been too shy, too careful, but she did now. “You putrid son of a diseased whore. You lying, stinking sack of horse shit.”

Hans’ eyes narrowed.

“I’d watch your tongue, Princess.”

“Watch my tongue?” Elsa’s voice rose. “I will not. I should have spoken up months ago. I always knew there was something wrong with you, and I was right, for you’re a selfish, manipulative cunt. You have a rotten cock-sore for a heart. You don’t love my sister, you never loved her, you’re just _using_ her.” She clutched the journal to her chest. “You think you’re fit to wear my father’s crown? You’re not even fit to wipe my sister’s shoes. You’re not fit to kneel before her. She’s everything, she’s the whole world, and you, you are an empty shell. Hans Westergaard, you are _nothing_.”

It was almost miraculous to see. Now that there was no more pretense, Hans’ face twisted up with fury, ugly and blotched-red with rage, revealing how he truly felt, what he truly was. He grabbed Elsa’s bare wrist, twisting it painfully, pressing it back into her face. 

“I said _watch your tongue,_ you little bitch. This time next week, I will be your King.”

“No you won’t.” Ignoring the pain in her wrist, Elsa stared defiantly back into his face. “I’ll tell Anna. I’ll tell her _everything_ . And then she’ll _never_ marry you. You’ll never be our King.”

She had expected Hans to quail. Instead, a nasty, cruel smile spread across his face. 

“Oh, Elsa. You fool. See, you _won’t_ tell your sister.”

“Yes, I will.”

“No, you won’t. Because if you do…” He leaned in closer, making the pain in her wrist spike, “I’ll tell everyone in this kingdom _your_ little secret.”

She froze. Ice crept over the windows; the temperature of the room plummeted.

Hans glanced at the glass, chuckling low in his throat.

“Yes...see, _you_ found _my_ journal, but _I_ found your father’s. And King Agnarr, God rest his soul, was _very_ descriptive of the truth where he thought nobody would read it.” He breathed in Elsa’s ear: “The truth that his daughter was a monster.”

“No…” she whimpered. Cracking noises shot through the room as the frost spread. Tears sprang to her eyes, seeping down her cheeks, freezing off her chin into drops of ice.

“You are a blight on your father’s house.” His eyes were bitterly cold, laughing at her despair. His voice had become smooth and even again, perfectly measured. “You are a cancer in your kingdom. He worried that you would never be able to walk amongst _normal_ people. He wondered if it had to do with marrying your mother, with her unknown past. God knows what savages _she_ sprang from.”

“My father loved me,” she choked out. “He loved my mother.”

“You hurt your sister,” he murmured. “You can’t even speak with your people, you can barely step outside your castle walls. Your sister cries over you, frustrated in that; she loses sleep worrying over you, even after you nearly killed her.” He smiled. “Your parents died looking for the origin of your powers.” 

Snow fell from the ceiling.

“No. No. That’s not true. They were on a diplomatic trip to the continent, passing through the Southern Sea --”

“That’s just what they told people. Your father detailed their true plans to himself; they went north to the Dark Sea, on a whim of your mother’s, looking for more information about you. About your powers. And that is the true reason they died. Because of _you_. Your powers are not a curse upon _you_ , Elsa, but upon the people you love. Your people would be wholly right to fear you, to hate you, if they knew the truth.”

Elsa’s righteous rage was twisted with humiliation and despair; she sobbed, helpless in his grip. She didn’t want to believe it. But it struck a chord of truth in her; it was _easy_ for her to believe that she could be responsible for her parents’ deaths. That other people would blame her too. She was certain, more than ever, that they would hate her, turn against her, tear her apart. And worse, far worse, they would turn against her family too, blame her parents for siring a monster, worst of all, blame her sister for keeping one safe. Snow continued to fall as she cried. 

“So here’s the deal,” Hans murmured in her ear. His voice was full of satisfaction. “ _You_ keep your mouth shut about my intentions with your precious sister, let the wedding go on in peace, and _I_ don’t reveal what you really are to your allies and your people. Got it?”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Hm. I think you got it.”

He let go, shoving her bodily through the bedroom door; the lock clicked shut. 

Elsa ran away, ran through the hallways, up the stairs, until she was in the attic, away from everyone else. It was only then that she knelt, fell down among the trunks and boxes and let herself keep crying. The loud, rasping sobs kept coming for a long time, raking through her throat, the tears dripping down and turning to a frozen, icy puddle before her skirted knees. The snow fell around her, each tiny, perfect flake only a reminder of the pain she was in. 

“Elsa?”

She looked up, face still streaked with tears. Waddling over from Anna’s old trunk was Olaf, wearing Anna’s old three-cornered hat, her blanket, and her “dragon feet” mittens. With that, and with the concern for her on his face, he suddenly, abruptly reminded her of her sister as a child. 

“Olaf. I...I didn’t realize you’d be in the attic again.”

“Why not?” He scratched his hat. “You said I can’t be seen, and there aren’t a lotta places to hide except the attic. And your room.”

Elsa felt another stab of guilt. She had been confining him to the exact same situation she’d been living in for eight years, and she hadn’t even realized. 

“C’mere.” She extended her arms.

He waddled over, discarding Anna’s belongings to climb into her embrace. He was cold, and his flurry dusted her updo, but none of that bothered her. 

“Why were you crying? Did someone make you sad?”

“Just...I’m in a really bad situation, Olaf. Whatever choice I make, it’s going to hurt people.”

Olaf pondered this, his buck teeth sticking out slightly. 

“Can I help? Do you want me to sing a song about possibility? I’m a really good singer.” He sang a four-note melody _exceedingly_ off-key. Elsa was so caught off-guard she actually smiled. “Ooh, or I could read you a story.” He picked a heavy book off the top of a trunk and dramatically opened it, clearing his throat. “It began...with two sisters. One born with magical powers, the other born powerless, their love of snowmen, infinite.”

Elsa’s smile grew, even through the pain in her chest.

“Olaf, that’s a record book detailing every month of taxes we gathered from the kingdom through the 1820s.”

“Oh.”

“Also, it’s upside-down.”

Olaf examined the book.

“Oh, I see now! I see that I can’t read.” He put it down. “Or spell.”

“I’ll just have to teach you, then.” She cuddled him a little more, steadying her breathing. The little snowman snuggled easily into her arms. 

“Elsa? What kind of really bad situation are you in?”

“I don’t want to make you upset -- I --” Tears welled up in her eyes again. “Oh, Olaf. Either I let someone in my life be with someone who doesn’t love them, someone who could hurt them, or I...I reveal myself. What I really am. And I risk...I risk destroying my family’s reputation, everything my parents worked for, and our kingdom’s relationships with countless other countries. Because _why_ would our people accept me, let alone love me?”

“Oh. Well, I have absolutely no idea which person in your life you could be talking about, even though you only have relationships with like, four people, but Elsa…” He blinked slowly. “If this is about someone you love…I think because you love them, you have to do what’s right for _them_ , and not what’s right for you. You have to put _their_ needs first. So you gotta be brave.”

Elsa started, staring. Astonished, she wiped her tears and she gave her snowman a long, long look. 

“How did...how did I make you so insightful?”

He shrugged.

“I dunno. Maybe it’s ‘cause you put a piece of your powers in me, but I think...a lot of what I know is just what _you_ already know, Elsa.”

What she already knew... 

Deep down...she already _did_ know. Like how she knew she loved by putting someone else’s needs before hers, like how she knew she had to be brave even though she’d spent her whole life afraid. She knew that after all Anna had been to her and done for her, she needed to do what she’d planned to do all along and face what she was scared of for the sake of her sister. 

The journal was still pressed to her chest. He had forgotten to take it from her. 

Elsa got to her feet. 

“C’mon, Olaf.”

“Where are we going?”

“Well, first we’re going to my room.” They walked together to the stairs, his stick-hand in hers. “There, I’m going to teach you the ABCs.”

“What’s after that?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll figure it out.”

The rest of the day flew by, and all of Arendelle and all their guests settled into their anticipation for the upcoming royal nuptials. Elsa kept politely making conversation with leaders and dignitaries, Hans slid through the hallways practically oozing smugness, and Anna seemed oddly subdued for a woman who had been so looking forward to this. Elsa found her in her office, bent over her paperwork and looking tired, but when Anna saw her sister, she opened her arms wide. Elsa embraced her at once, thinking of the task she had to do.

“Hans hasn’t been bothering you, has he?” she asked.

“He’s my fiancé, Els, I can handle it.” There was a slight tremor to Anna’s voice, but she kept holding her sister close, firm and safe. “He just came in a minute ago, to tell me -- to wish me luck with my public address tonight.”

“Right, where you thank everyone for coming and all.” Elsa paused, hesitant. “Anna...if you were about to make a mistake about something big...would you want me to tell you?”

Anna looked surprised, then shrugged.

“I guess so, sure. Might still do it anyway, depending on what it is,” she half-joked lightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Just...want to look out for you.”

“Oh. Oh, Elsa.” Anna held her a little tighter; Elsa’s breath shook. “Of course. We’re sisters. We’ll _always_ look out for each other.”

Elsa buried her face in Anna’s shoulder, not feeling like she deserved her sister’s love.

“I want to come to your address with you.”

She smiled nervously through Anna’s excited congratulations. Then she returned to the attic, running a hand over her father’s old books. Then she fetched her mother’s beloved old magenta scarf and draped it over her shoulders.

The public address was in Arendelle’s main square at sundown, between the flagpole and the clock tower. Their kingdom’s people had all come out in droves, as had the wedding guests; Elsa silently attended her sister’s right side, while Hans flanked Anna’s left, and she counted their allies and friends. The Duke of Weselton had returned, as had the ambassadors from Britain, Spain, and France, along with the queen of Eldora, the princess of Avalor, the princess of Corona and her consort, a passel of diplomats from America, and a handful of gentry from across the rest of northern Europe. Elsa even picked out a cluster of men and their wives wearing the sigil of the Southern Isles, looking enough like Hans, even with darker or fairer hair, even stockier or taller or skinnier, that she guessed they were some of his brothers. She took note of how their father the King, however, hadn’t bothered to show. 

Before the sea of faces, staring at their never-before-seen princess, she swallowed hard, her knees shaking. 

But amongst the townspeople, she saw a familiar face above the others -- literally, since he was so tall. Flanked by Sven, Kristoff made eye contact with her, smiling unusually gently at her, and judging by the way Anna suddenly brightened and Hans narrowed his eyes, at her sister too. Elsa then felt her sister’s hand squeeze her shoulder; feeling less alone, she took a deep breath, willing herself to be brave. For Anna. 

She stayed silent through her sister’s earnestly given part of the address, thanking everyone for coming, for being such good friends of her kingdom, for her people. She could not ask, she said, for a better people to be queen to; this was met with thunderous applause, for the people loved Anna too. And Anna deserved it. Nobody deserved love more than Anna. 

Then Hans stepped forward. 

“Get rid of the scarf,” he hissed under his breath at Elsa, “those are not European symbols, you look like a heathen.” 

Then he smiled magnanimously at the crowd. 

“Friends, guests, people of Arendelle,” he began, his voice once again as smooth and charming as always. “My future bride has already thanked you for gracing us with your presence. Now, if I may --”

Elsa stepped forward and the audience broke into loud murmurs. 

“People of Arendelle, honored guests,” she managed to say, desperately trying to keep her already-throaty voice from cracking. “ _I_ would like to say a few words.”

The murmurs grew louder.

_“The princess?”_

_“The princess wants to speak?”_

_“Now, after eight years?”_

“Who let this quivering little _girl_ give a speech?” one of the other Westergaard princes sneered disparagingly. 

“Princess Elsa.” When Hans addressed her again, he was still smiling charmingly, but he spoke through gritted teeth, and there was barely-concealed anger in his eyes. “Perhaps before you speak, you might _reconsider_. Remember what we discussed?”

“No. I will not.” Elsa shrugged free of his extended hand, then stepped forward, so that everyone could see. Every eye in the kingdom was now turned on her, and her breath shook.

_Oh God. I can’t do this, I can’t --_

“Elsa?”

Her sister’s soft, single word was all it took. 

“My people, my guests,” she began again. “You wonder why I stand before you today, when for eight years I remained isolated in my family’s castle. Well, the reason for my isolation is what I intend to share with you today.”

Hans’ eyes widened.

“What do you mean, Your Highness?” the French ambassador asked. 

“My apologies, everyone,” Hans said hastily, “the princess is not well this evening. She is raving.”

“Ah, female hysteria,” someone in the audience said.

“Precisely. Come with me, my lady, we shall put you to bed and you’ll feel better in the morning --”

He snatched the edge of her mother’s scarf, trying to tug it and her away. Anna started forward indignantly as Elsa cried out. 

“ _No!_ No, let go of me, let go --”

Her hand flew outwards as she struggled -- 

\-- and a bolt of ice shot out, striking the facade of a nearby house. 

Everyone stared as long, glittering icicles formed beneath the house’s windowsill. Then everyone turned and stared at _her._

Elsa shoved Hans’ hand away for good, her heart hammering in her chest.

“I was born with magic,” she said. “I was born with the power over winter and the ability to create ice and snow.”

Silence fell.

The Duke of Weselton recovered his voice first. His toupee flapping as he shook, jumping up and down with outrage, he pointed a finger squarely at her. 

“Arendelle has lied to us? You have sorcery!” Murmurs began to arise again, some clearly angry, afraid. “Their princess is a wicked sorceress! She is a witch! A monster!”

Elsa closed her eyes as the voices rose.

“ _NO!_ ”

A single word cut through and silenced the crowd.

Elsa opened her eyes as her sister put her hand on her shoulder again. Anna may have been short and slender, but right then the queen seemed as tall and imposing as a mountain, her eyes flashing like lightning. 

“Listen to me!” Anna spread her other arm wide. “All of you! My sister is not a monster!”

“But she has magic!” someone else whimpered.

“So what?” Anna challenged. Elsa’s heart warmed. “Elsa has never caused any pain or real damage. So she has magic. But why does that condemn her? Why does having abilities different than you or me make her evil? Trust me. She is _not_ evil.” 

Though many people still looked fearful or incredulous, they were not running away or charging her. Some even looked like they were listening. 

“Her magic is nothing to be afraid of,” Anna said, her voice warm. “It’s nothing to hate. It’s extraordinary. It’s beautiful.”

The queen and princess looked at each other, and Elsa was struck, as always, by the love in her sister’s eyes. 

“Show them what you can do, sis.”

Elsa realized that her braided bun had come loose, unpinned, and pulled it down to fall in a single braid over her shoulder. Then she took a deep breath, and a stream of snow curled into the air, then another, bursting like fireworks against the twilit sky. Snow showers sprinkled down over the crowd; Elsa lifted her hands and beautiful, curving sculptures of ice rose from the ground, a herd of rearing, shimmering horses. Then icy winds twirled around the sculptures, bedecking them with saddles and bridles of snow, little sparkling ice crystals forming upon every structure in the wind’s path. 

The crowd’s gaze did not falter, mesmerized. 

Elsa concentrated, spinning her hands in the air and snow swirled in the sky, concentrating and forming shapes, trees, rivers, a pair of children running through the leaves. Then she spanned her hands out and it all dissolved and lifted upwards, coalescing into a single great snowflake in the sky -- which, when it burst, let fall only the most delicate of flurries. 

Several people applauded. 

Elsa had never felt so elated. 

The Duke of Weselton was not convinced.

“Sculptures and moving pictures?” he squawked. “Please. She’s a sorceress! Is that really _all_ she can do? What is the _true_ extent of the horrible things she can create --”

“Hi everybody! Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”

Screams rang out. The Coronan princess’s consort leapt about three feet into the air into his wife’s arms. The Duke’s spectacles almost popped off his face.

_“What in the name of sweet suffering Christ IS that thing?”_

Elsa actually burst out laughing.

“Oh, oh God, I’m sorry. Everyone, this is Olaf.”

Olaf waved a twig-arm.

“Stay back! It may be small and lumpish, but the princess must have created it, and look at its hideous exterior! It must be deadly!”

Elsa laughed so hard she almost doubled over. 

“He’s completely harmless,” Anna protested, picking up the snowman like an overgrown baby (“Yay! Warm hugs!”). “See?”

“I _did_ make him, though,” Elsa confirmed, wiping her eyes. God, she felt so good. 

Olaf’s head fell off, and several children giggled. 

“I like him,” one child said. “He’s funny.”

“Her sculptures and snow _were_ beautiful,” a woman in a blacksmith apron ventured. 

“She seems less like an evil sorceress and more like any other nervous young woman to _me_ ,” said one of the American diplomats. 

“Why did you isolate yourself if there’s nothing inherently harmful about your magic though, Your Highness?” someone else asked. 

Elsa lifted her head.

“I was scared,” she admitted. “That _you_ all would be scared of _me_. But I’m not anymore.”

She turned and looked at Hans; she savored the expression on his face. 

“This man is a fraud,” she announced. Shocked gasps reverberated through the crowd. “He is no friend to us and our kingdom, he only wants to seize it and our resources for his own. He’s been playing us all for fools. He doesn’t want my sister’s hand. He doesn’t care about her. He just wants our father’s crown.”

Anna’s expression melted from proud and happy to confused, distressed, shaking her head. 

“Elsa, that’s not possible.”

Elsa’s heart twisted.

“I’m sorry, Anna.” She pulled Hans’ journal out from under Iduna’s scarf. “But it is.”

“Anna, don’t listen to her,” Hans exclaimed, “she’s jealous of the attention you’ve been paying me; she means to discredit me. She forged that journal.”

“ _‘August 6, 1839,’_ ” Elsa read aloud. Her voice echoed through the whole square. “ _‘I have already begun plans to reshape Arendelle’s economy once I am king. Ice harvesters must work overtime, work double in order to justify the ridiculous amount they’re paid, even if they do hold up most of Arendelle’s trade. Anna is too soft on these worthless peasants, and it’s killing me to have to pretend as though I like or care about their insignificant little lives. Can’t wait to be married so the playacting is over. Luckily for me she’s just as stupid as the people she rules.’_ ”

The next set of gasps were indignant, rising into anger. In the audience, Kristoff was beginning to look enraged. 

“ _‘August 7. It’s almost too easy to play on Anna. All I have to do is play the ‘love’ card and she eats it up like a child with sugar. As if I could possibly, genuinely want to care about or put up with her. If it weren’t for Arendelle’s wealth and significance I would’ve taken my suit elsewhere months ago. Maybe tried a woman who was actually a challenge to manipulate._

_August 8. Perhaps being thirteenth in line came in handy after all. Father and my brothers can have the barren rocks that are the Southern Isles. I shall have this beautiful, lush kingdom, and all the power it and its people can give me._

_August 9. Though it would be nice to have a queen actually on my level. I’m now planning on how to reshape her into a better molded woman. As it is, she’s still near-intolerable. If only she knew how difficult it was even to pretend to like her, I would love someday to see the look on her face._

_August 10. The old king’s policies will have to go. Capital punishment shall be reinstated. Tariffs shall be imposed on countries with diplomatic leadership, instead of monarchial. I shall try once again to take the Northuldra territory, to increase the power of the kingdom. And people like the princess can stay out of public sight, where they belong._

_August 11. For the life of me I still don’t understand why Anna’s so strung up about her sister and her parents. Agnarr was a softhearted fool, Iduna was a meek little nobody. And Elsa is the worst of both of them, boiled down into a sick-minded weakling. Good riddance to the late king and queen, I say. And the chance to stage an accident for the princess, to get her out of the picture, cannot come soon enough.’_ ”

Elsa closed the journal; she knew she had said enough. The crowd of guests and Arendellians alike looked outraged, the other Westergaard princes red-faced, furious at their brother for humiliating their family. Kristoff, for someone with such a soft heart, looked downright murderous. More than that, the look of heartbreak on her sister’s face was already killing her inside, and she couldn’t bear to keep twisting the knife. 

Hans was looking at Elsa with nothing less than pure, vicious loathing. 

“Hans, how could you?” Anna’s voice was little more than a whisper. Olaf, in her arms, looked confused and upset. “Did you really write that about my family? About my kingdom? About me?”

He took a deep breath. 

“You sneaky, vicious little _bitch_.” This was aimed at Elsa; ice crept over the cover of the journal. “You think you’ve won. You think you have me. I’ve done nothing wrong, nothing illegal, you may have ruined my chances in Arendelle, and I will get you for that, but I will be back. My plans will succeed, if not here. For you and your family are not worth the effort. You’re not worth the never-ending _strain_ of constantly pretending to _tolerate_ your vacuous cow of a sister, and I will simply take my suits elsewhere --”

“I don’t think so,” rumbled a voice. For two such large individuals, Kristoff and Sven were remarkably quick at sneaking up. He folded his arms across his chest, revealing that he was a good few inches taller than Hans and considerably broader, even without the downright scary look on his face. “Now, I may just be an overpaid ice harvester, but didn’t you write in your journal there that you were planning to murder the princess? Isn’t _that_ a crime?”

Several people in the audience yelled in agreement. 

Hans was still for a moment. 

Then he put a hand on the hilt of his sword --

\-- and before he could do anything, two of his brothers ran up and each grabbed one of his arms. 

“Rudi, Tomas, get your hands off of me you blithering idiots --”

“Hans,” snapped a third brother, “You’ve just humiliated us in front of countless other rulers and the entire population of our allied country. You’ve plotted to murder their crown princess and shamed their queen. You disparaged your own homeland. You utter fucking moron.”

“Father is going to have something for you when we get home,” snickered a fourth brother. “But it’s not going to be the crown of Arendelle.”

Hans paled as his brothers began to lead him away. 

“Wait,” Anna said suddenly, her voice shaking. “One second.”

She set Olaf down on the ground, and approached her soon-to-be-ex-fiancé. 

“Anna, I --”

The sound of fist against face reverberated through the whole square. 

Their guests cheered and applauded. 

“Well,” said one of the princes, doing a poor job of hiding his smile as his brother howled in pain and clutched his rapidly-swelling face, “Now you’re also under arrest for bruising the Queen’s knuckles with your nose.”

They led Hans away, just as the Duke of Weselton began to bluster again.

“How do we know he’s guilty? Are we seriously supposed to take the word of a self-professed sorceress and her sister at face value --”

“Hail Queen Anna and Princess Elsa,” someone in the audience said quietly. 

“Hey! You! Shut up!”

It became louder instead. It became a chant, and more and more of their people, their guests, began to take it up. 

_“Hail Queen Anna and Princess Elsa! Hail Queen Anna and Princess Elsa! Hail Queen Anna and Princess Elsa!”_

“Take him away too,” Elsa said to a nearby guard, and they began to escort the protesting Duke to his ship. Then she faced her people, a wind rising up, playing through her hair. Elsa smiled tentatively at them, their shouts and cheers washing over her, not quite believing it. 

“Guards, open the castle gates,” she said, lifting her arms. “All our guests are welcome to stay there. And everyone in the kingdom is welcome to the food we were preparing for the wedding feast.”

More cheers for their princess rose into the air, and the crowd finally began to disperse. 

It was only then that she turned around and realized her sister was gone. 

Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf were looking around too, clearly as confused as Elsa was. 

“Wait, where did she go?”

Kristoff chewed his lip, his brow furrowing. 

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But...if you want to be sad, or you want to think, I know a really good place to do it. And right now, there shouldn’t be many people there.”

It took him a while to guide them there, since Elsa didn’t know the city and Olaf kept wandering off about every five seconds, but they eventually came to a stop at Hudson’s Hearth. Inside, the tavern was warm and well-lit and surprisingly clean, and totally empty except for two people. Behind the bar, a good-looking older black woman with graying curls was polishing glasses -- and casting a sympathetic look at the younger woman hunched over a table, nursing a steaming mug of what smelled like spiked hot chocolate. 

“Hey, Halima,” Kristoff said to the woman behind the bar, who set down her cloth, nodding to their group. 

“I was just at the public address,” Halima said, peering curiously at her princess, and at Olaf, who was trying to replace his carrot with a pretzel stick. “The queen asked me to take her here afterwards...poor thing,” she sighed. “You’re going to have a job comforting her, Kristoff, and you too, my lady. And um…” She looked at Olaf. “You...too...Mr. Snowman?”

“Oh, call me Olaf,” Olaf said. “Mr. Snowman was my -- well, actually, I don’t have a father.” He looked at Elsa. “Was Mr. Snowman _your_ father?”

“Very much no.”

It was then that Anna raised her head. 

“Hey guys,” she mumbled. “Can you answer a question for me?”

“Of course.”

All four of them clustered around her. Kristoff, Elsa, and Olaf sat at the table with her, and Sven lay down on the floor, resting his head on her knees. Anna petted behind his ears. 

“Am I completely gullible?”

They all protested at once. Even Sven whined.

“Guys, come on. Hans played me for a sap right from the start.” 

“He played the whole kingdom,” Kristoff said. “We were _all_ taken in.”

“No. Not you two. Don’t try to deny it. I know neither of you ever liked him.” She sighed. “Look, I never minded too much, I actually thought it was kinda nice that you two were willing to...get over yourselves and be supportive anyway. Now I...wish…”

“That we had said something earlier?” Elsa said softly. Guilt crushed her chest like a fist. "Anna, I'm sorry. I _should_ have said something. And I'm so sorry about the journal reading. I didn't mean to hurt you, to break your heart."

“No. Elsa, no, don’t blame yourself. _He_ hurt me, not you. All I wish is that I hadn’t been so allfired _stupid_.” Anna dropped her head onto her arms. “I blew it. I blew it! I nearly let that gold-digging bastard take my kingdom and take...take away the last of my family. I totally overlooked all the warning signs, kept making excuses for him long after I should’ve stopped --”

“That doesn’t make you stupid,” Kristoff said roughly. “Not at all. _Neither_ of you should blame yourselves.”

Anna sighed again. Elsa put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. 

“I just wanted love. Love like my books, like what Mother and Father had. Now I guess I don’t even know what love is.”

Olaf, who’d been holding Anna’s arm, spoke up. 

“That’s okay, I do!”

Everyone looked at him. Including Halima. 

“Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours. You know, like how Elsa risked her life to show everyone her powers so she could tell you about Hans because he was trying to blackmail her because he knew about her magic, and you know, like how Kristoff suffered in silence and didn’t tell you about his feelings because he thought you wanted to be with someone else.”

Elsa felt her face heat up, but it was _nothing_ compared to Kristoff’s; his face was as red as a valentine. He had also suddenly become very interested in the tops of his boots. 

Anna looked at Olaf. And then she looked at the pair of them. 

“You guys...Elsa, you really did risk yourself, didn’t you.”

Elsa nodded.

“...and Kristoff, you…” She fixated on him. “You...have feelings for me?”

“He’s in love with you,” Olaf clarified. “Did you really not know that?”

“Is that true?”

Kristoff fidgeted. Sven nudged him nearer to Anna; Olaf waved his twig-arm in an unmistakable _go-ahead_ gesture.

“Sometimes I really don’t like either of you,” he muttered. “Yes. Yes it’s true.”

She looked at him for a long time. His blush deepened. 

“Anna, you don’t have to worry about love,” Elsa said softly, rubbing her sister’s shoulder. “Because _we_ all love you. We all love you so much. You’ve done so much for us all. You’re everything to us.”

Anna looked around at the four of them, her expression suddenly inscrutable. Elsa sighed.

“I’m afraid we can’t offer anything better for you, though.”

Anna was silent for a moment. 

“Well, of course not, sis.” She pulled all four of them into an embrace. “Because there’s _nothing_ better than _the best_.”

Kristoff gaped. Olaf and Sven exclaimed happily. Elsa gasped, tears suddenly welling up, not quite able to believe it. Anna’s warm eyes crinkled. 

“I should’ve seen it all along. I _always_ had love. From the day you were born, Elsa, all through the last few months.” Their hug tightened, pulling closer. “You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

In that moment, to her, Anna was all that mattered.

“Anna…”

“I’ll be okay. It’s alright, guys. I know I’ll be okay.”

When they pulled apart, Anna called out:

“Halima? Can you take a couple more orders? This is _not_ a sad drink anymore.”

Halima beamed.

The next week flew by, and summer finally faded into fall. Instead of the wedding, Anna lived up to Elsa’s promise and threw a huge public feast, for their guests and everyone in the kingdom. The sisters kept the gates open wide, and Elsa spent the days wandering the kingdom, exploring, getting to know her home for the first time. She got lost more than a few times, but it was worth it, to see the Diaz blacksmith wives greeting her to show off a new sword or set of horseshoes, to see the prostitutes waving to her from the windows of the Hus av Fjellrosen, to wander into Blodgett’s Bakery for a roll or slice of cake and coffee, to say hi to Halima at Hudson’s and buy a drink to listen to her stories about her lost lover and Agnarr as a little boy, to meander down Jødiskegate at sundown and see the candles and listen to the singing and be invited in by Mrs. Jakobsen for Shabbat dinner. Anna introduced her sister to other rulers until Elsa’s head spun with new faces, but she still smiled genuinely at the Eldoran queen and the Avaloran princess and the Coronan princess and her consort -- the last, in part because they had brought a _chameleon_ , and why _wouldn’t_ she love a tiny adorable lizard?

The Westergaards had stuck their youngest brother in the brig of their ship, and now spent a significant amount of their time sucking up to Anna and Elsa, assuring them that this was an anomaly, and they would still remain allies despite this erroneous situation, wouldn’t they? 

The King, for his part, sent his sons a very irate telegram, and the Queen sent a very sour one asking if they were going to get uninvited from _every_ major event in Europe, now, and gloating over how she’d always known Hans was a bad one. The sisters agreed to deliberate a while, to let that family stew in their own juice before making up their minds as to whether to continue working with them or not. Elsa secretly pitied them, just a little, for so very clearly never having had the love her own family did.

Anna went to the Southern Isles ship to go make sure Hans was in fact in the brig, and sure enough, he was. While she was there, he, in his artfully tattered and worn uniform, _very_ convincingly laid out his reasoning, but also his sorrow and regret for letting his planning progress and spiral out of control the way it did, and the fact that it would be _such_ a mistake to throw away what they’d had in the face of a few false steps.

Anna decked him in the face again and left him there. 

The Duke of Weselton threatened to lay tariffs on Arendelle if Elsa wasn’t punished in some way for her magic, and Anna cut off trade with him entirely. Kai very, very much enjoyed delivering _that_ particular message. 

Still reeling at her new freedom, at the acceptance of the people left, Elsa forwent a jacket even as the temperatures dipped, tied her white-blonde hair in a single braid instead of a bun, and small children tailed after her on the streets, asking her to make it snow, to make little toys for them out of ice. For some reason she didn’t understand, children loved her, especially little girls, always begging her to “do the magic” like Anna had used to, and when she did, always looking up at her in awe. Touched by their love, Elsa was very, very careful never to endanger or hurt them, but nonetheless, she always obliged their wishes. 

She finally let Olaf wander the kingdom too, and she saw _him_ with the children too, more often than not. He was as, if not more, popular with them than she was, and it always made her laugh to see them playing together, and made her smile to see him free from hiding at last. He kept spending time with Sven too, the two of them often seen romping together all over the place, the reindeer still trying to go for Olaf’s carrot nose and Olaf _still_ oblivious. 

As for Kristoff...the sister placed him in charge of the entire kingdom’s ice industry as thanks for his friendship, and between his and her sister’s work, Elsa more and more frequently kept spotting him and Anna together, sometimes doing no more than just talking and being together, because maybe big gestures of romance were overrated and just talking and being together were enough. She kept thinking, as she watched, that her sister had been so busy chasing a _perception_ of romantic love, she really hadn’t recognized real romantic love when she’d felt it. 

_At least, not at first,_ Elsa thought to herself as she hid behind the willow tree on the castle grounds, smiling, as she watched them together under the golden canopy of leaves, as Anna lay her tiny hand over Kristoff’s big, rough one. 

Anna was sometimes still sad about Hans, about being deceived -- she still thought she was stupid for not seeing it earlier. But the four of them had been countering it by pouring out their love for her, Elsa and Kristoff spending time with her as much as they could, even when they were tired or overwhelmed, Elsa giving her all the hugs and Kristoff all the awkward but kind reassurances they could muster, patiently listening as she talked about the kingdom and her friends and her favorite books and paintings and songs, about her troubles and her joys, genuinely happy to hear from her. Olaf learned what pencils and paints were and kept giving Anna very wobbly artworks and misspelled attempts at stories in his crooked, oversized handwriting (although he did also draw and paint on the castle walls and cause Kai several near-heart-attacks). Sven let her pet and cuddle him whenever she needed, and uprooted flowers to give to her, the stems all covered in reindeer spit (much to Elsa’s disgust, though Anna was far more touched than anything else). So Anna cried less, smiled more, and that was everything to her sister, even more than her newfound freedom.

Things seemed to be getting better for all of them, in every way. 

But as the first frosts set in and everything else was at peace, something still troubled Elsa. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, even as she was otherwise content, reading her books on public benches and drinking a mug of coffee or cocoa, wrapped in her mother’s scarf, getting approached by intrigued or awestruck Arendellians. 

She meandered up to the attic one chilly October morning to retrieve her father’s records, accidentally knocking one of the trunks over and spilling out a tied bundle of paintings, and a pair of worn, old leather-bound books, each inscribed with _Property Of_ and _King Agnarr_ and _Queen Iduna_ respectively. 

Elsa lifted one of the landscapes and took it in, immediately recognizing the delicate, careful brushstrokes, the soft colors, the gentle use of light. She ran her fingers over the bumps and whorls of the dried oil paint, careful not to create ice, to potentially crack or otherwise ruin her mother’s creation. Wondering where she had been when she’d painted this, for she did not recognize the woods that Iduna’s artwork had captured, the different trees, the different hills, the different landscape than anywhere in the kingdom. Maybe it had been on a trip Agnarr had taken with her, and upon thinking that, Elsa finally recognized the ache in her heart. 

She carefully set down her mother’s paintings and picked up her father’s journal, biting her lip anxiously, a little snow drifting from the ceiling. 

_September 6, 1831._ _I had no idea how wrong I was. After only a month of isolation from her sister Elsa was even more out of control, instead of more in it. Now, she has regained more of what she had before the accident. I must conclude, especially after Anna’s intervention, that Elsa needs to love_ and _know that she is loved, even if she’s not necessarily face-to-face with the person in question, in order to thrive. She may still need a few years away from a populace that could harm her, but not away from_ everyone _, not away with_ us _, her family, in order to truly learn to control herself. Thank God Anna allowed me to realize that her sister needed us, needed her, before it was too late, before I caused Elsa irreparable damage. The daughter has outclassed her father, it seems, and at only thirteen too._

_December 21, 1831. Elsa’s ninth birthday. We had a quiet little celebration, just the four of us, and a mound of cake that Anna plowed through in about ten seconds; she made her little sister laugh at that, made it snow on the table, which was a touch concerning, but it was good to see them both happy. It made Sunshine smile too._

“Sunshine” was what he’d called Iduna. 

She flicked past Agnarr’s details on running the kingdom, which he’d already told her, his romantic talk of her mother, which she could live without, and his glowing praise of Anna’s ascent as heir towards being queen, which she already knew. Looking for her father’s dismissal of her. 

_June 21, 1832. Anna’s fourteenth birthday. Elsa insisted on organizing a scavenger hunt so that her sister could have an adventure finding her presents. I have learned that joy brings out her powers as much as anguish, they seem tied to her emotions...love does not suppress them, per se, but simply allows her to use them with more ease, more confidence._

_October 8, 1833. Elsa had a panic attack after failing an assignment in lessons, during which she caused a snowstorm in her room. She begged me to put gloves back on her to suppress her magic, but before I could do anything, Anna ran in and caught her in an embrace, and settled the storm faster than anything. I’m afraid I am quite useless to my daughter, but Anna...thank God for Anna. Iduna assures me that Elsa looks up to me, that what I do impacts her. If that’s true, I will have to be better at accepting help now. The last thing I want is either of my daughters to hurt any more._

_January 20, 1834. I wish to God I had never isolated Elsa from us for that month. I heard her telling her mother that she feels she can only trust her family. That she feels terrified of what people will do to her if she reveals herself to them. What would she do if she were alone, if she could not rely on us? I fear I would have destroyed her. It is hard to hide her magic, it might have killed her inside to try; it is so strange, so unpredictable, and sometimes, when it distresses my daughter like this, I understand why my father feared and hated it so._

Elsa caught her breath, her hands shaking. 

_But it is a part of Elsa. And Iduna thinks it is a gift. And Anna thinks it is beautiful, the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Who am I to argue with them?_

Her breath all came out in a gasp. 

_August 18, 1835. If Anna ever wondered if her love, all her time and patience, were ever reciprocated, she need not any longer. Elsa and I were working together in my study again and, bored with a question, she caused little snow-figures of herself and her sister to run across my desk. I laughingly commented on how lifelike they were, especially when they hugged each other, and Elsa replied at once that, and I quote her directly here, “It’s not nearly enough to show my real-life feelings, though. I wish I could show her all that she’s done for me, how much I love her. She’s helped me so much, Papa.” Nothing to add. It is fully true. I can only hope Anna knows it as well._

Her breath kept catching, almost sobbing. She remembered that day. She remembered the warmth in her father’s eyes, and now she knew she hadn’t remembered falsely.

_September 3, 1836. Have found out much. Sunshine has an idea to find out the origin of Elsa’s powers, to learn more about them, so that she may control them enough to venture in public at last. We’ll have to sail north, through the Dark Sea, which I don’t look forward to, but she assures me this place is real. That it will have answers. And I trust her. We’ll have to tell the girls we’ll be gone a couple weeks; they won’t be happy, but at least they will have each other. Elsa is smart and kind, she can protect herself with her powers, she will be able to figure things out, and Anna is on her way to becoming a great queen. She is the best of us all. They sell themselves short, but there’s nothing they can’t do together. I know they will be fine._

The journal ended there. 

Elsa’s sobbing continued, holding her father’s words to her chest for a long time. Then, still clutching it, her mother’s journal still in her other hand, she ran downstairs and threw open her sister’s bedroom door. 

Anna and Kristoff leapt apart at the _bang_ of the door, hastily smoothing down their hair and clothes, Kristoff wiping lipstick off his mouth and Anna readjusting her crown. Tears now dry on her cheeks, Elsa stared. 

“We weren’t doing anything,” her sister babbled nervously, fumbling for her makeup, spilling everything on her nightstand on the floor. “Oh shit. Um…” She reapplied her obviously smeared lipstick. “Elsa, I know I have an open-door policy around here, but uh, from now on I think you should, you know, knock.”

“In case you two are ‘not doing anything’ in the future?” Elsa asked, suddenly feeling the urge, even through her surge of emotions, to smile. “Alright. I’ll keep it in mind.”

She moved over to Anna’s bed, and Kristoff gave her a look that made her suppress a giggle. 

“You’re not _really_ upset, are you sis?” Anna asked anxiously. “You don’t mind?”

Elsa put her hand on her sister’s.

“No. Not at all. For any reason. To begin with: it could have been much worse.”

“Yes, uh, Elsa, I tell you this as your friend: you are a kid, so I will in the future spare you any details, but through it all please know that I really do have the utmost respect for your sister, and --”

“I know, Kristoff,” she interrupted, giving in to the urge to smile, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. “I know how much you care about her. I trust you. It’s okay.”

“Right.” She and her friend shared that smile between them, acknowledging together their joy in this happening. Her heart was full knowing that they made each other happy, and knowing that now that she knew her sister would be loved, genuinely loved, and that she truly believed that they could be great together.

“Just don’t ever let me catch you two doing something worse.”

“Um...if you do, you won’t freeze bits of me off, right?”

“No promises.”

“ _Elsa,_ ” her sister said indignantly, which made her laugh and the adults look reproachful and nervous, respectively, and she almost forgot why she had come there in the first place.

“But seriously. Guys...I...I want you to look at this.”

She sat down between them and opened Agnarr’s journal, turning, a few pages at a time, to the passages where he talked about his daughters. Both adults went silent as they read, looking over her shoulder. 

“You can’t blame yourself for their deaths,” Anna said softly when they were done. “You are not responsible for their choices.”

“It kind of feels like I am.” Elsa blinked hard, tears returning. 

“Elsa…”

“Anna, look, the -- the point is -- Father was right.” Her finger fell to the passage in question. “You have done so much for me, you’ve loved me so much, and I _do_ love you as much.” She once again thought of how devastated the reading of Hans’ journal had made Anna, the look on her sister’s face, the long eight years of putting up with Elsa, and for what? “I just...no matter what you've told me, about me being the best, I really don’t think I do anything for the people I love in turn.”

The expression on Anna’s face after she said that made her curl away from her sister, a few of her tears leaking out. 

“I don’t think that matters.”

Both sisters’ heads snapped up to look at Kristoff. He looked awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“What I mean is, I don’t think you have to _do_ anything to earn people loving you, Elsa. You don’t have to _prove_ that you deserve our love, I don’t think you had to for your parents either; you don’t have to and never _had_ to work for it. Because you love us all back. And for us, I mean, that by itself is a huge deal.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I haven’t had a real relationship with a person since before I can remember. We were Olaf’s first experiences with people, period. And I know you girls _need_ each other, whether you think you deserve each other or not.”

They kept looking at him. Something blossomed in Elsa’s chest, and she suddenly felt incredibly grateful that she’d met him, that he’d fallen in love with her sister. 

“I’ll uh, see myself out now.”

Anna grabbed his wrist before he could stand up all the way, pulling him back down next to them -- which was impressive, considering he was as big as both sisters put together -- his eyes growing wide. 

“You,” Anna gushed, “are _the_ most _wonderful_ man I’ve ever met.”

Elsa smiled as his cheeks turned scarlet; she kept crying, but they weren’t tears of fear or despair anymore. 

“And Elsa, our parents were wrong about a lot, but they got the measure of you right in the end. Because the way I see you...you’re so, so much, Els. You have been kind, you have been caring, you have been a loyal daughter to Mother and Father, a good friend and creator to Kristoff and Olaf. You did what you were most afraid of to save me from being married to someone who didn’t love me. And Kristoff’s right, because most of all, even if you didn’t do any of that other stuff, you have been my sister.” She took Elsa’s hand in hers. “That matters to me, more than anything.”

“And you have been mine,” Elsa whispered, her heart overflowing with love. “And that matters more than anything to me too.”

“Oh, Elsa. And hey, for the record...I _did_ know how much you loved me. I’ve always known.”

The two adults wrapped her up in their arms, Anna kissing Kristoff’s cheek over her head, Elsa enveloped in their embrace. 

She still didn’t feel like she’d deserved any of their love. But none of them, nobody she had ever loved, had ever thought she was evil, a curse, a monster. Not her parents, not her friends, not even her people. Not her sister. None of them now believed that she needed to be locked away, or to suppress herself in order to be loved. So maybe...maybe she could finally believe that they were right. 

When they pulled away, Kristoff absently picked up the other book in Elsa’s hand, and it fell open at his touch. 

“Did your mother write this?”

They looked, and found that Iduna’s journal was almost entirely composed in a language none of them recognized. Puzzled at first, they kept flipping through it -- until a loose page fell free. Written in Norwegian, both sisters recognized their mother’s elegant, slanting hand at once. It was dated the same day as their father’s last entry, only two weeks before they’d taken their last voyage together. 

_Agnarr and I leave for the Dark Sea soon; I hope I was right, that this works. He is pinning everything on this, he’s so convinced that I’m right, so much that he’s finally at peace. Finally convinced that our daughters will be alright, when he used to worry so much about them. They_ will _be alright, though, even if I am wrong. Not just because they are smart, not just because Anna is on her way to being a great queen, though they are, and she is._

_Though I agree with Agnarr that there is nothing those girls can’t do if they are together, it is their love that will save them. For each other, for their people, for, I hope someday, themselves. They would do anything for their love, I know. Because of it, Elsa is stronger than she knows, braver than she thinks. She deserves every bit of peace she can find. And Anna...oh, stubborn, sweet Anna. Her love could hold up the world. Her kingdom will hold her up in turn._

_They are the greatest girls, the greatest_ women _, our peoples have borne. Whether our search works out or not, I hope they will be happier, freer, than I was. I_ know _they will be better._

The three of them sat in silence for a moment. 

“Hi guys!”

They looked up, and Olaf was standing in the doorway, Sven standing behind them. While the little snowman waved blithely, Elsa could’ve sworn the reindeer was giving her a nod, a knowing look. 

“You’ve been up here for a whole hour! What were you doing? We missed you!”

Without saying anything, for once, Anna got to her feet and picked up Olaf. Sven followed her as she went back to the bed, as, again, the five of them all leaned in close, into a wordless embrace. Right then, there was nothing else that needed to be said. 

It could’ve been seconds or hours before they pulled away again. As outside, the wind blew across the kingdom, and the golden, scarlet leaves began to drift towards the ground; everything was finally at some kind of peace. 

Their life began again, and they began to build, settling in a rhythm they could all walk to. They still had so far to go, and of course there were problems and adventures in the meantime, but then, they were, generally, finally happy and content. 

Until three years later, when Elsa woke up in the middle of the night to the call of a voice no one else could hear.


End file.
